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Dean Thomas ([info]artistdean) wrote in [info]finnigans_rpg,
@ 2014-08-18 16:53:00

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Entry tags:character: dean thomas, character: seamus finnigan

Who: Dean and Seamus, open?

What: Dean wants to be grumpy with friends

Where: Finnigan's - bar

When: Late afternoon

Rating: SFW



Dean was feeling distinctly unimpressed, and now also damp. The paint base he'd spent most of the day making, had made dozens or even of times before, had exploded over him. That hadn't happened since he was an apprentice. Clearly some small impurity had got in the cauldron despite all precautions.

Braith had come running at his shriek of protest and just pointed towards the door. She was a woman of few words and he knew it meant she would clear up while he went home to shower and give in for the day. Luckily the base wasn't poisonous or even dangerous, just mildly clingy. Over half an hour later he was finally feeling clean and Apparated himself to Monument Alley, swiftly making his way to the pub.

Seamus was installed behind the bar and Dean pulled a somewhat grumpy smile to his face. "Hey, can I get that free drink now? Stupid base exploded all over me, got sodding everywhere." He slapped his journal down on the bar and plonked himself on a stool.
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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 07:25 pm UTC (link)
Dean looked down at his bowl and gave a slightly strained smile. "You should look for someone new, you know. Chilli and paprika is an easy enough mistake but they keep happening," he said, scooping up some of the mixture and blinking a little at the flavour. "It's not... bad as such, just really not what you want it to be." He was trying to sound placating, but he knew Seamus was well aware of the problem.

"Shall I make the obligatory short joke or just take it as read?" he asked.

He nodded, listening to Seamus talk about who would be turning up later. It sounded like at least a few more friends would turn up. It would keep him entertained, and protected. Boy could his friends be protective. He sort of liked it, but the fact they were almost all far shorter than him amused him sometimes.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 07:38 pm UTC (link)
Seamus's shoulders slumped a little. He hadn't been prepared for the hiring and firing aspect of this job and even two years on it wasn't any easier. His best employees were his friends - Dean and Dominic among them - but he got on well with everyone. Well enough that he didn't want to turn them out on their ears. "I know." He chewed on a slice of beef for a moment, it was slightly overone as well as the mix-up with the spices. "If it didn't look so much like stroganoff it might be alright. It's because it looks and tastes like too completely different things."

He shoved playfully at Dean across the bar before drawing himself up to his full height - still so much shorter than Dean that he had to laugh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Leprechaun, little people. Been there and done that." He didn't really mind, of course. He gave as good as he got.

"Kenmare game on Thursday," he observed, gesturing at the sports pages of the Prophet, which lay open across the bar. "Glad the season's starting up again."

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 08:04 pm UTC (link)
Dean poked around for a mushroom and chewed it down quickly. "Yeah. I mean it's not a disaster but it's just not right. I'll do a big lasagne at the weekend, you can stick it in the fridge or whatever so you don't have to rely on what comes out of the kitchen, or just grab some veg." He was gesturing slightly with his fork. He knew Seamus wasn't a fan of the less fun business bits, but he had to admit he was good at them.

He rocked back on his stool, before rocking forward over his food again, smiling. People he could joke with were the best.

"Yeah, keeps us all occupied and on the edge of our seats. Keeps nails short and bar numbers up." He glanced over at the paper. "I haven't had a look today, any news on how they're looking?" He glanced around the bar, eagled eyed as always for something out of place. Something specific.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 08:19 pm UTC (link)
Seamus smiled at the prospect of lasagne, then fell in exaggerated dismay. "Lasagne like pasta sheets and cheese and mince, right, and no... I don't know, bananas or jalapenos or fish?" Dean's combinations, though usually deliberate, could be honestly just as weird as anything cooked up in the pub kitchen. Seamus ate it all anyway, most of the time.

He watched Dean's eyes scan the bar as he tucked into his own food - strange it might be, but it was filling a gnawing hole in his stomach he hadn't quite realised was there. He shouldn't have skipped breakfast. "They are brilliant, as always," Seamus said, his loyalty to the Kenmare Kestrels as absolute as Dean's was for his beloved West Ham. "A million times better than the rubbish buzzy insects you like."

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 08:31 pm UTC (link)
Dean stuck his tongue out. "Yes, normal everyday lasagne. During the day cooking and everything. The weird stuff mostly happens in the middle of the night, you know that. The oddest thing it might have in it is spinach, I promise your poor delicate tastebuds will be just fine."

"To be fair," he said, swallowing a gulp of tea, "I also like the Kestrels, the Wasps are just a hell of a lot more local though and when you grow up with your dad telling you to support your local team you take it to heart. I'll be in for the match though, probably. Unless I'm working, in which case definitely." He grinned guiltily at his inability to remember his working schedule.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 09:07 pm UTC (link)
Seamus pouted, his lips pursing against the rim of his teacup as he lifted it. "M'not del'cate," he murmured, so garbled that probably only Dean would have been able to translate it into real words. He was great at managing spices now - he was eating the chilli-stroganoff without a murmur, wasn't he? Just because there'd been that one time at Dean's when he was little...

He rolled his eyes at Dean's perpetual inability to know what day it was, let alone what days he was supposed to be working. "You're working Wednesday, if that's alright," he said. "It's just the choir, shouldn't be too busy." The choir tended to attract older customers - apart from Alicia, and Wednesdays were quiet since people preferred to come in for the Quidditch on Thursdays instead. "It's a good thing you keep me fed or else I'd be looking for replacement bar staff."

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 09:23 pm UTC (link)
Dean snorted, he new spices weren't Seamus' thing and he tried to avoid giving him anything of Aunt Rose's or his accidental over-chillied things if he could help it, but there was only so much he could do. Sometimes it was entertaining to see him squirm, sometimes it was purely accidental that he tried to blow his friend's mouth off.

"Wednesday's good. Plus the choir usually sounds good when I hear bits. As long as I don't fail at base making again tomorrow I'll actually be painting, so it'll be better." He shovelled down the last of his 'stroganoff' and grinned.

"You love me, I'm not getting sacked," he said, making a kissy-face at Seamus and waggling his eyebrows.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 09:39 pm UTC (link)
Seamus automatically transferred Dean's bowl to the big 'sink' behind the bar. He used cleaning charms more than soap and water, but it was convenient to have somewhere to store things that were waiting. He finished off his own portion, fighting not to wince as a clump of chilii powder that had been stealthily waiting at the bottom of his bowl threatened to make his eyes water.

"Glad my schedule-making meets with your approval," he said, when he felt sure he could talk again. "It's almost as if I'm the boss around here. Almost like maybe it's my name above the door." In truth, he'd worried it would seem arrogant but 'Finnigan's' had just been a simpler, more effective name than anything else he'd been able to come up with. He didn't even feel self-conscious about it any more.

He watched Dean's elaborate pantomime, his own expression deadpan. "You think I love you more than I love this place?" he asked, rolling the long sleeves of his t-shirt up to his elbow. "Really?"

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 09:54 pm UTC (link)
"Berk. Yes, yes, you're the boss. Gorgeous sign and everything. Just forget to feed yourself sometimes." Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm just pointing out I like Wednesdays."

"Pretty sure you do. I mean the pub is awesome, sure, but I am awesomer." He tried to keep a straight face but three seconds of trying to keep eye contact with Seamus he started laughing. Not that he didn't believe that Seamus loved him, it was the straight faces that were ruining it for him.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 10:03 pm UTC (link)
"The boss," Seamus said, producing the word slowly, letting his gaze go distant. "Yeah, I like that. You should call me that all the time." He met Dean's eyes, trying his hardest to look sexy - and then shattered into his own fit of giggles because it was just not him. He'd always talked the talk more than he'd walked the walk, but not like that and the idea of being anyone's boss in the bedroom did nothing for him.

With the two of them laughing like idiots, they earned a few raised eyebrows but really anyone who'd come into Finnigan's more than once knew to expect this. Seamus scratched gently at his tattoo. The one Dean had designed, the one enchanted to transform on Dean's birthday, among other days. "Sure, you're awesomest" he said when he'd caught his breath. He did love his pub, but he wore his love for Dean on his skin always. He grinned. "But you love me even more than you love mouth-burning chilli concoctions."

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 10:42 pm UTC (link)
Seamus' attempt at sexy only collapsed Dean into another fit of giggles. "Oh, Merlin, no, please no," he said as he trailed off into gasps.

His glance flitted over Seamus' tattoo and he added a mental reminder to himself to think about his potential designs for himself again. If only he could decide on what, or where. "To be fair the mouth-burning chilli things are just because I grew up on them. You, mate, are in a fight with painting," the and winning went unsaid.

He looked slowly around the rest of the pub and spotted something out of place. Swivelling around properly he looked closer, eyes squinting before breaking out into a grin and sauntering over to the little flash of metallic paint he'd spotted and pocketing something with a grin. He raised his eyebrows at Seamus and nodded.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 10:58 pm UTC (link)
Again, Seamus pouted - and flattened a palm over his heart for dramatic effect. "Those were my best moves," he complained, exaggerating his accent. "And you laughed! Traitor! Get out of my-" He couldn't quite manage it, rocking forward to rest his elbows on the bar and breathing deep to fend off more giggles. The muscles between his ribs already ached pleasantly.

He considered this... Dean had loved painting and sketching since Seamus had known him, but he could think of one thing that might go even further back. "The real test," he said, leaning forward even further as if imparting sacred knowledge, "is whether you love me more than West Ham."

He sat back with a groan as Dean headed unerringly for his most recent hiding place. "Shite. It's only been, what, two and a half days?" He would blame it on being excited about the journals, and next time he'd hide it somewhere not in plain sight from the bar.

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 11:11 pm UTC (link)
Dean opened his mouth to retort of course he loved Seamus more than West Ham, and then stopped, mouth open as pain creased his face. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times an glared at Seamus. "Well, that's just unfair!" He bit his lip and then scratched his head, glaring some more. Then he muttered, "Yes, I love you more than West Ham," sincere but almost grudging in his words.

"Yeah, but I can tell you weren't trying too hard. I'll let you know when it's out again," he said lightly. He hadn't picked a new hiding place yet like he sometimes had, but it wouldn't take him too long.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-18 11:27 pm UTC (link)
Seamus had the grace to feel a little guilty. He didn't ever want to be the reason Dean's face looked like that, not really... but it was also sort of fascinating. He was about to step in, to stop Dean from answering by pointing out that there is literally no hypothetical where Dean is going to have to choose one or the other. And then Dean went ahead and answered and Seamus felt a flush creep up his unfortunately pale neck.

"Knew it," he said, but he wasn't crowing as much as he thought he would. "And I love you more than..." He struggled to think of anything big enough to end that sentence. He never had a 'thing' like Dean and his art or Neville and his plants or even Harry and flying. He loved Kenmare, but nowhere near as fiercely as Dean loved West Ham. "More than I love West Ham," he finished, trying to make it funny by nodding his head over-seriously. Then he brightened, "And more than you love West Ham, too."

He waved away Dean's excuses. "You'd better actually tell me, this time!" He remembered - only too well - the time the damn phoenix had stayed hidden for nearly a month after Dean had forgotten to give Seamus this vital message.

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-18 11:37 pm UTC (link)
Dean was sort of flummoxed by Seamus' suddenly very weighty declaration, and swallowed a couple of times, grinning at the little head nod. Then he snorted at the final declaration, the hint of something that had lingered around his eyes dissipating.

He groaned. "You're never going to let me get away with that, are you? I thought I'd told you!" he protested. He maintained his favourite hiding place had been down Susan's top, mostly for the look on the faces of most of the bar when Seamus had suddenly launched himself at her cleavage.

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[info]openbottle
2014-08-20 08:11 pm UTC (link)
Seeing Dean's confusion, Seamus quickly skated away from a conversation that seemed to have run away with them both. "Thought being the operative word in that sentence." He poked his tongue out and wiggled it in Dean's general direction. "Being generous and assuming you think at all, of course." He finished off his tea and swept the cup away with a wave of his wand.

"Did you get those new paintbrushes you wanted?" Seamus asked, hoping he sounded casual. Dean's birthday was coming up and while Seamus had ideas for gifts he inevitably got asked to provide suggestions for everyone else, as well. It was never a bad idea to encourage Dean to talk about what he might need or want.

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[info]artistdean
2014-08-20 08:29 pm UTC (link)
"Oi!" Dean said, trying to sound suitably outraged, then stuck his tongue out right back. "Just because I think about paint instead of complicated business things doesn't mean I don't think," he muttered. He knew Seamus was joking though. A consequence of knowing him so long.

Another consequence being that even his best attempts at being subtle were usually as easy as glass to see through. Although he knew the cause so he decided to resist the urge to roll his eyes and actually help Seamus out.

"Yeah, a couple of them, but I still need the fine detail ones, anything tiny really. Detail work drives me mad since mine went kaput. I'm out of a couple of pigments too and I'll need them once I've got more base made. The burnt umber and the... aquamarine, or was it Moroccan green? Oh, and I should get more titanium white, I had to nick some of Braith's last week." He grimaced. She might be a woman of few words but she could say a thousand things with a simple look.

He fancied a few non-paint related things too, but he wasn't quite sure how to bring those up. Subtle he was not.

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